


The Howling Wind

by rabbitxheart



Series: Sterek Week 2016 [3]
Category: League of Legends, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, League of Legends crossover, Sterek Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8385961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitxheart/pseuds/rabbitxheart
Summary: Lamb and Wolf, also known as Kindred, are a League of Legends champion. They are supposedly the result of Death splitting himself in two, or at least according to Lamb. Who exactly this man really was seems to be up for debate. I don't play myself, and I know they're not really mythological creatures, but I've always been fascinated by the different mythological aspects of death and I couldn't resist.





	

“Can I?” The dark shape next to him asks, muscles straining, sharp claws digging into dirt. “It runs.”

“Not yet,” he replies calmly. “He hasn’t decided.” 

 

Silence falls between them as they watch the man struggle with himself. Just a few short hours ago the prey him and his hunters sought to end got all of the party but him, and the hunter became the hunted. But then again, Lamb and Wolf hunt everyone in the end.

 

“Does it know we’re here?” 

“When he does, it will be too late.”

“It _will_ run,” Derek whines, begging for permission to hunt, and Stiles reaches out with one hand to anchor him, just a soft press of hand into thick fur. It soothes his constant companion, but only a little.

“Are you distraught?”

“Yes, Lamb,” he admits, albeit reluctantly. As if Stiles didn’t already know.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like the scent of prey but not being allowed to catch it,” he says pointedly, the beginning tremors of a growl slipping into his voice. 

“If he stays, I will grant him a merciful end. If he runs, you will give chase,” he says reassuringly. Derek rumbles, shuddering in excitement. He's ever so impatient, his Wolf, eager to feel ground passing beneath his paws. 

“Lamb?” Derek says, the long lush fur of his side stroking along Stiles’ legs as he moves around them restlessly. It’s dark, shiny like oil, and soft, a different kind of soft from Stiles’ starlight bright wool. A perfect counterpart.

“Yes, dear Wolf?” Stiles responds patiently still, keeping his eye on their target. His left hand hasn’t left his bow since the man began fled to what he’s desperately trying to convince himself is a safe haven. But Stiles’ arrow stays in his right hand even as he strokes the fur beside him, always ready to notch and aim. There is no safe haven, not with the eternal hunters about.

“Tell me a story?” Derek asks, as he usually does when seeking a distraction.

“Alright.” Stiles agrees, just like always. “There was once a man, a pale man with dark hair, almost more of a boy than a man, who went by many names. Despite all these names, he was desperately lonely.”

“Why was it lonely?” He still paces, only a little bit slower.

“Because he brought death to everyone and everything he met, and all must meet him in the end. They were afraid, so they despised him.” In the camp, the man is pocketing things. Bare necessities, weapons.

“What did it do then?” Wolf asks, oblivious to the turn their night is about to take. Stiles doesn't give it away, knows it'll be sweeter for him this way.

“He took an axe and split himself in two."

“So he would always have a friend?”

Derek nuzzles his stomach, overcome by emotion he doesn’t understand, and that Stiles understands but will never feel as fully. It’s affection, possession and hurt all in one, ripples on the water for Stiles where they’re a full storm for Derek. One might think that would split them even further, when instead it draws them closer.

“So he would always have a friend.”

 

They stand there for a while, the forest almost silent around them. There's a chill in the air, autumn leading towards winter. The man's breath comes out in puffs as he picks up pace and starts running.

 

“Dear Wolf?” Stiles says, giving Derek a rare smile.

“Yes, Lamb?” He gives a muffled answer, snout still buried in wool.

“This one is yours. Shall we?” Stiles feels a flash of a hungry grin against his stomach.

“Race you there.”

 

They set off, bounding through the forest at a speed that few could catch with their eyes, nevermind match. But wherever Lamb is, Wolf is sure to follow. For what is one half, without the other?

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lamb and Wolf, also known as Kindred, are a League of Legends champion. They are supposedly the result of Death splitting himself in two, or at least according to Lamb. Who exactly this man really was seems to be up for debate. 
> 
> I don't play myself, and I know they're not really mythological creatures, but I've always been fascinated by the different mythological aspects of death and I couldn't resist.


End file.
